Meeting with Nightgaunt
Log Title: Meeting with Nightgaunt Characters: Major Bludd, Nightgaunt Location: Major Bludd's office, Cobra's Colombia Base Date: 18 May 2007 TP: Non-TP Summary: Nightgaunt and Major Bludd discuss their recent retrieval of Over Kill and a few of R&D's ongoing projects. Category:2007 Category:Logs ''As logged by '' Major Bludd Major Bludd's Office A wide desk of dark wood stands ten feet from the door, facing it, with a black leather swivel chair behind it. Within easy reach of the desk is a small bookcase filled with binders and folders. A few grey file cabinets stand at the back of the room and to either side of a window which looks out onto the courtyard of the Command Sector below. A door connects this office with that of the command staff secretarial pool. When the office is occupied, the desk is usually taken up by a laptop computer and a smattering of papers, binders, folders, and writing implements. Major Bludd is in his office with his bum leg propped up, trying to avoid paperwork whilst not being bored to tears. Edgar has been placed on a no-duty status on account of the bloody gash he received at the hands of Over Kill. Deep lacerations and three nearly broken ribs were the result of that. As such, he's in civies because his flight suit didn't feel comfortable over the huge bandages. He walks into the office, holding a few sheets of paper that have been stapled together. He steps up to the desk and offers it to the Major, "Here is my report on Over Kill. I believe it will explain my actions." Major Bludd looks Edgar up and down before taking the report from the young man's hand. "How ya feelin', lad?" He picks at a bit of fuzz on his knee brace, frowning. Nightgaunt lifts the edge of his shirt, revealing the aforementioned bandage. There's a large crimson streak across the middle of it. His metal eye refocuses as he says, "I've had worse." Major Bludd laughs. He taps his left cheekbone. "I think we both have." He tilts his head to the side. "Unless that was part of your StratoViper surgery ... I tend to keep my nose out of that end of things." Nightgaunt shakes his head, "A high-calibre round took out my canopy in an engagement to drive the Decepticons out of North America. Brainstorm designed the cybernetic replacement." Edgar pulls up a chair and slowly lowers himself onto the seat, "It seems that I'm always getting injured right when there is new equipment to be tested. R&D has informed me that the Magna-Pulse cannon is ready for field trials." Major Bludd reads over the report and nods. "I was hopin' ta retrieve Over Kill without having to wreck 'is crazy ass, but ... que sera sera. That mission's accomplished, and we have a bit o' time to sit on our tails an' recuperate. Hopefully things'll stay quiet 'til we're ready to step up again." He hums appreciatively. "Magna-Pulse cannon? What's that all about, then?" It may be a trick of the light, catching the edge of his metal eye, but there's a certain gleam in its polished blue surface. "A new system for the Shadow Rattler's modular main cannon system. It uses an ionic tag to deliver a focused electromagnetic pulse. It allows the aircraft to field a wider variety of heavy ordnance while maintaining the ability to cripple enemy avionics." Nightgaunt is waaaaaay too serious when it comes to his jet. Major Bludd nods. "Impressive. Say, whilst we're on the subject of weaponry, what do we have that will do any damage to the robot-types?" Nightgaunt doesn't seem to miss a beat. "That was actually the purpose of the Magna-Pulse. EMP weaponry has proven somewhat effective against many of them. There, however, those that are shielded, and even resistant. A variety of weaponry is usually the best bet." Major Bludd says, "Good! When is it scheduled to be tested? Or are you gonna do that yerself?" Nightgaunt nods once, "I'll looking for optimal targets for field testing as soon as I'm back on full duty status." Major Bludd says, "I'll be very interested in the results of that test." He looks around, his eyes finally settling on a binder labelled 'BRAINSTORM - REPORTS'. He pulls it out and flips through it. "Hm. I don't seem to have any info on that project." He looks up at Edgar. "What can you tell me about it?" Nightgaunt shrugs, "I'm uncertain about the research or origins of the technology, but Brainstorm has developed a device that can amplify the psychokinetic potential of the user." Major Bludd frowns. "Psychokinetics. Isn't that like -- moving things with your thoughts or something?" Nightgaunt offers a succinct nod, "Brainstorm has even demonstrated pyrokinetic talents as well." He nods once more, "Apparently it's the result of psychokinetically speeding up molecules...something like telepathic friction." Major Bludd grins broadly. "Beauty. *Do* keep me apprised of that, should Brainstorm himself fall down on the job. Ya'd think scientists'd be better at filing reports." Nightgaunt shrugs slightly, "Brainstorm may be concerned about security, especially with Joes in the area. I wouldn't blame him, especially concerning such a sensitive material." Over Kill says, "*Static* think... *Static* poor judgement." Viper Squad 1416 says, "What the hell?" Nightgaunt says, "Somebody get me a sledge hammer..." Viper Squad 1416 says, "Ya left yer radio on, dummy! Switch it off! We're tryin' ta concentrate on our poker game here!" Major Bludd picks up his radio. Major Bludd says, "Over Kill, you're off-duty. Stay off the radio channels." Over Kill says, "Confirmed." Over Kill disconnects suddenly. Major Bludd rubs his temples with his fingers. "Where were we?" Nightgaunt's normally even expression seems strained. "Security.' Major Bludd says, "And transformers. Well, lad, I think I'll go see about getting some supper. Unless ya have any other concerns y'need ta air?" Nightgaunt shakes his head, standing up (slowly) from the chair. "I believe that is all, sir." Major Bludd smiles, swinging his propped-up left leg off the chair it was sitting on. "Care ta join me?" He also gets up from his chair slowly. His other wounds make this task more difficult than it ought normally to be. Nightgaunt considers for a moment...there's still a chance the food may squeeze out of his stomach walls. This /is/ Cobra medical we're talking about. "I suppose I could stand to eat something." Major Bludd lifts a hand to lay it on Edgar's shoulder, winces, and drops his arm again. "Good ta hear. Let's go drum up some chow, then." Nightgaunt nods and falls in behind the Major.